Aiyyo, this is Ice Cube the Don Mega.  Don't worry about your time zone, get
 your grind on.  60 Minutes of Funk, Volume 3. Final Chapter, yeah, ya-ay!

 [Funkmaster Flex]
 Aight, my man Mack 10 gettin ready to lace all this.

 [Mack 10]
 Yo, check it, let the games begin
 It's all to the good, bust out to the NYC from Inglewood
 We can all get down, have loot, and get licked
 So fuck the bi-coastal beef and bullshit
 It's the nigga that you know is gun-ho
 Mack one-o, I bust bad bitches in pairs, never one hoe
 With ?tips? for the real niggas to make it thorough
 Much love to the East Coast ghettos and the boroughs
 Like E.F. Hutton, they listen when I'm speakin
 Poor white trash, black niggas, to Puerto Ricans
 Mack wanna blast when the index itches
 Plus I use it to finger bitches and hit switches
 Check the menu, you need it, I got it
 Everything, hit records to narcotics
 Its all about the dough, rain, sleet or snow
 And the first fool to cross me catch the four-four
 Then the phats on ?bun?, surprise you with that one
 And whoever don't like it, fuck em and eat a fat one
 The to homies in the pen, I'll send you a kite
 Cause its time for the real niggas to unite
 Like Funkmaster Flex, you know its all about figures
 We showed each other love so now Flex is my nigga
 I remember the day, if it was good you never fought it
 No matter where you were from if it was bumpin you bought it
 From East to West Coast, its all the same
 Its either run the dope game, or do the rap thang
 Mack 10 keep it gangsta, all the way tight
 Two heats on my hip, left and right for the fight
 So with that hoo-bangin life

 [Funkmaster Flex]
 Y'knaw mean, cause that's the way we keep it moving, baby.

 [Ice Cube]
 Yeah, Ice Cube, my man Funkmaster Flex, my man Mack 10.  It don't stop, The
 Final Chapter. You know how we do it.

 [Funkmaster Flex]
 I still ain't havin it, motherfucker. Aight, look out for that! Aight?  Drop
 that, don't miss it.  I'm tired of nigas frontin on me, a lot of nigga frontin
 on me.  Be-atch!  Aight